High Heels and Inui Juice
by FallingSilver
Summary: Inui gets an idea for a brand new training program for all of the Seigaku regulars, and a nightmare unfolds. [Warning: Completely twisted.]


**Author's Note:** This is my first PoT fanfic, and somehow, it turned out to be completely on crack. O.o I've never tried writing weird fanfics before, or even humorous ones, so I have no idea how this turned out. Please review and let me know what you think! I'd really appreciate the input, good or bad.

And, as a warning… there is humor in this that involves some suggestive shonen-ai dialogue. It's meant as humor, so hopefully it won't offend anyone. Well, whatever works for you as far as interpretation goes. Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

Ryoma Echizen was staring at the shoebox in front of his feet, completely glued to his seat on the courtside bench. He couldn't move. He just couldn't. 

He was supposed to be putting on what was inside that shoebox. Putting _them _on. On his feet. But there was no way he could do such a thing.

No way.

And this was the horror that Inui-sempai was actually forcing them to endure, Ryoma thought grimly. No, this was the horror that Inui-sempai encouraged, and created, even… probably just for the express purpose of watching his teammates squirm.

Well, Ryoma Echizen wouldn't stand for it. No, he wouldn't. He would be crushed rather than submit to such utter humiliation.

And it had started out as such a pleasant day, too, which was what made it all the more unbearable. Ryoma had walked onto the tennis court, completely unaware, just like the rest of his teammates, of the hideous torture that lay in wait for them. And he had innocently walked up to join those same teammates for the usual practice briefing. And he had even been eager to begin his scheduled practice match, despite the fact that he had yet again been paired with Momoshiro for doubles. After all, one of his opponents was going to be Fuji, and Ryoma was eager to see how the team's tennis prodigy would surprise him this time around.

But that was when the bomb had exploded right under his nose.

"One more thing," Inui had said suddenly, before the regulars could be dismissed to begin their respective matches. "For these practice games, we're going to try out a new training technique."

"New training technique?" A murmur of curiosity had rippled through the ranks then.

"What do you mean, Inui-senpai?" Ryoma had been unable to help feeling apprehensive. (1)

But Inui had been rifling through a large shopping bag and didn't respond. He started taking out, one by one, numerous brightly-colored shoeboxes and stacking them on the bench beside him.

"It's really not so mysterious," he had said finally, holding up one of the boxes. "It's a very logical method for improving balance and coordination."

And that had been when Inui, with a completely serious face, had taken out one of the shoes from the box and held it up.

Ryoma still shuddered in recalling that moment.

The shoe had been nothing other than a woman's shoe, one of a pair of black, high-heeled pumps.

Various expressions of astonishment had exploded like a string of firecrackers among the tennis club members. Some of the underclassmen had already started snickering at what had obviously become an awkward situation for their superiors, to put it mildly. And most of the regulars had already looked like they were going to lose it.

"I-Inui, you can't really mean that we're going to-" But Oishi hadn't even been able to finish the question. Evidently, Seigaku's vice captain had not been informed of Inui's new training technique, either.

"Wear them?" Inui had obligingly filled in the blanks. "Why wouldn't I mean that? It won't do much good to leave them in the boxes."

"But… But they'll scuff up the courts!" Eiji had exclaimed triumphantly, certain that there had to be some valid excuse that would foil Inui's diabolical plan.

"And that's why I did this," Inui had responded calmly, turning the shoe over and pointing to the sole, which was smeared with a yellowish substance. "Inui's Special Preventative Waxing Lubricant, guaranteed to protect the courts from potential damage. And it's the non-stick, non-slip formula, too."

"How does he do it?" A sigh from Kawamura had shown that he, at least, had succumbed to their horrible fate. Then again, they all knew better than to fight Inui. Somehow or another, he always had his way when it came to his bizarre training techniques. Of course, that hadn't stopped some of them from refusing to go down without a struggle.

"But there's no way we can play in those!" Momoshiro had practically wailed. It had little effect, however.

"It's not impossible, just challenging. And you'll all be playing in them, so nobody has a handicap."

Of course, since it was the ever-thorough Inui, that wasn't all that there had been to the new training technique, either. The second pair of shoes he had taken out of their box had ankle straps.

"As you can see," he had continued. "I've completely researched the structure of the high-heeled shoe, and you each have a pair custom-bought to challenge your weaknesses. For example, the shoe straps on this pair will have a hindering effect on Echizen's tendency to play leaning too far forward with his ankles when he uses the Split Step."

"So that's why those shoes are so small," Arai had snickered from behind. Ryoma couldn't help bristling in anger at the memory.

"Of course, what's really scary about this is that Inui actually took the time to research women's shoes," Fuji had said, still with the same customary smile on his face. "Besides the fact that he must have gone into women's shoe stores to buy them."

"How is it you don't even look scared?" Eiji had mumbled to his teammate. "We're actually going to have to _wear _them, nya." (2)

"Well, enough talk," Inui had finally declared. "You all have five minutes to find the box with your name on it, try on your shoes, and get used to how they feel. And then it's time for the matches."

And that was how Ryoma found himself sitting on a courtside bench, staring at a box that contained women's shoes, and even being forced to contemplate wearing said shoes on his own two feet.

He was starting to feel sick.

He wasn't the only one, either, it seemed. As yet, none of the regulars except Inui and Fuji had even started untying their tennis shoes, choosing instead to stare at the new footwear with something like fear.

Inui noticed this, too, and remarked on it. "All of you had better hurry up. I'm not giving you any more than five minutes."

There was a pause, broken at last by Ryoma's voice.

"No way," he said. "There is no way I am wearing those- those things."

"No?" A smile appeared on Inui's face. He walked slowly in his socks over to where Ryoma was sitting, and calmly raised something up toward Ryoma's face. "In that case, you can drink this."

It was a glimmering, oversized pitcher filled with some kind of greenish-yellow liquid that was sizzling like acid.

"It doesn't have a name yet, unfortunately," he said. "Since, after all, it is untested, humanly speaking. But some of the possibilities so far include Shockwave, Electric Jolt, and, perhaps, the Kiss of Death, in reference to its unfortunate effects on my test subjects, most of which were houseplants my mother was very sorry to have lost."

At first, Ryoma seemed speechless, except for a blurted and very uncharacteristic noise that sounded something like "Eep!" But a split second later, he was all but ripping off his tennis shoes, along with the other regulars, all of whom had witnessed the terrifying sight of the newly invented beverage. Evidently, the combined powers of true fear and natural survival instincts were still greater than the fear of humiliation.

And this is why, on that particular afternoon, all eight of Seigaku's regular tennis team members walked out onto their respective tennis courts in women's high heels.

"This is ridiculous," Momo growled under his breath as both he and Ryoma prepared to begin their match. "No, this is more than ridiculous. This is just plain wrong."

"You're telling me?" Ryoma hissed back. "Why do we have to do this, Momo-senpai?"

"I'm sure I don't know." Momo glanced down at his own feet and shuddered. There was something really disturbing about the look of women's shoes on men's feet that he couldn't quite express in words, but he was painfully aware of it all the same. That, and also the sarcastic catcalls on the part of the non-regular tennis team members. He'd have to make a note of that and kill the offenders later, after some good old-fashioned torture, of course. Maybe he'd make _them_ wear the high heels, and dress in drag too. Well, maybe. Ugh.

Already having assessed the frightening appearance of his own feet in high heels, he glanced at his friend's footwear and couldn't resist a repressed snicker.

"What's so funny, Momo-senpai?" Ryoma snapped, aware that his friend had been looking downward at his feet.

"Nothing, nothing." Momo attempted to brush it off at first, but he couldn't resist adding, "They just don't look nearly as bad on you."

Ryoma never blushed. He just didn't. It wasn't something Ryoma did. Ryoma Echizen was never flustered or embarrassed, and maintaining a calm front was easy for him. So this sudden warmth when the blood rushed to his cheeks at Momo's remark… He refused to call it blushing. It was the heat, maybe. But he was not embarrassed and he would not be humiliated. No, not Ryoma Echizen.

"Momo-senpai!" His stammered and indignant response lacked something of his usual finesse, however.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm just kidding," Momo offered, attempting to avoid the awkwardness which could be the only possible result from such a comment. He decided to keep his observation that the shoes really wouldn't look terrible on Ryoma if only he wasn't in his tennis uniform to himself.

It really was a weird effect, though. Wearing high-heeled dress shoes with tennis shorts could not exactly be called stylish. "Random" was perhaps the most fitting word for it… Well, other than "obscene" when one considered the fact that they were guys.

"Anyway, all I can say is, Tezuka had better be eternally grateful that he's far, far away from this mess," Momo continued, changing subjects. "If he saw his tennis team reduced to making this kind of fashion statement in the name of training, I think he'd cry."

"Probably," Ryoma agreed finally, pulling his cap farther over his eyes in a vain hope to hide his glowing red face.

"Hey, at least be glad you don't look like _that_," Momo suggested, pointing to the neighboring court.

Ryoma looked up long enough to see the Golden Pair warming up with Inui and Kaidoh, just barely long enough to appreciate the full value of the effect of Kaidoh in high heels.

He wondered if that burning sensation was the feeling of his eyeballs melting in his sockets.

Shuddering, he only mumbled, "No kidding."

"Hey, Viper!" Momo was yelling to his rival with a kind of sadistic triumph. "You look even worse than I do in these shoes! You'd better take them off, or the underclassmen will have nightmares!"

"Fssssshhhh." The sound of a particularly venomous hiss from Kaidoh was immediately accompanied by a solid thudding noise as a tennis ball whacked Momo right in the face.

"Nice Snake Shot, Kaidoh," was Inui's only comment as he continued hitting subdued ground strokes to his opponents.

"How can he hit the Snake in those things?" Momo demanded to know, addressing no one in particular. He rubbed his face, frowning. "And with such accuracy, too…"

"Well, I believe it might have something to do with the fact that he's already started warming up," a soft voice responded from the other side of the net. Momo's attention returned to his own court, where he was being addressed by Fuji.

He felt his jaw drop. Something about this wasn't right.

"Hey, Echizen," he mumbled to his temporary doubles partner. "Is it just me or does Fuji-senpai actually look at home in those things?"

Ryoma automatically directed his attention to where Momo was staring, and, actually, he couldn't believe it either. For whatever reason, the Seigaku tennis genius didn't look too bad in women's shoes, and he even had enough poise to be able to stand around in them without looking like a complete idiot.

What was even stranger was that Fuji still had that same smile on his face, like he didn't even mind being forced to wear high heels. No, that couldn't be true. It was too disturbing a thought. Almost as disturbing as the thought that maybe those high heels weren't such a bad look for him.

Well, almost.

Ryoma shook his head, literally willing such reflections out of his mind. He didn't want to think about the stupid shoes anymore. He just wanted to play tennis.

"Whatever, Momo-senpai," he said finally. "Let's just start."

"Right, I know." And Momo permitted himself one final sigh of regret before serving the ball casually to the other side.

Somehow, though, warming up only made the shoe problem more obvious. It was disconcerting to have to worry about the high heels constantly, and in order for Ryoma to keep his footing in such precarious shoes, he was continually having to adjust his reach toward the ball to keep from taking unnecessary and potentially dangerous steps. He felt his feet wobbling slightly from side to side each time he tried to speed up, and every single time it happened, he was convinced that he was going to fall down.

The ultimate result was that his shots were weak, his footwork appeared sloppy, and his swing looked inconsistent.

Well, he had to admit the new training exercise was challenging in its own way. Challenging, and thoroughly humiliating. For the first time, he started seriously considering whether or not he really should just quit the tennis team. Tennis was tennis, but if it included such complete mortification as part of daily training… maybe he'd rather take up ping-pong.

Meanwhile, the neighboring match between the Golden Pair and Inui and Kaidoh had already started. Ryoma spared a few glances in that direction, curious at how his elders were doing in the new footwear.

Oddly enough, every point he saw was won by Inui and Kaidoh, and the famed Golden Pair didn't look too happy about this.

"Eiji." Oishi exchanged a meaningful glance with his doubles partner on the changeover. They'd already lost the first game.

"I know, nya…" Eiji muttered with a scowl. "I saw it too."

"They're way too good for it to be the first time they've worn those shoes," Oishi declared decisively. "They must have practiced in them before."

"That's so scary, nya!" Eiji whined. "I don't like these shoes at all! Why would anyone practice in them when they don't have to?"

"To beat the best doubles team in Seigaku," Oishi stated solemnly. This caught Eiji's attention, and he nodded.

"Well, then, just let them try it!"

Ryoma had heard parts of this conversation, but for some reason, he was completely unable to appreciate the determination in the Golden Pair's remarks. It was probably because he was distracted by what was on their feet. Something about those high heels lent a new air to their naturally intimate relationship that he really didn't like. Suddenly it seemed kind of… wrong… for them to be so close, even though he'd always taken the pair's deep friendship for granted before. He shuddered and tried to focus on his own match instead.

Well, he tried, and he was fairly successful until he heard Oishi call out Eiji's name, which was followed by a thump and a clattering sound, accompanied finally by Eiji whimpering.

Ryoma's match stopped altogether as all four players were distracted by the sight of Eiji in a heap on the court, tears welling up in his blue eyes, while Oishi rushed to his side and Inui and Kaidoh approached more slowly.

"Are you alright, Kikumaru?" Inui's voice had a touch of concern in it.

"I twisted my ankle, nya!" Eiji wailed mournfully, looking as though he would start crying with abandon at any minute. "It really hurts!"

"Let's have a look at it," Inui said, kneeling and examining the injured ankle. Oishi, meanwhile, was trying to comfort Eiji, even while scolding him for being so reckless.

"You should know better than to try that jump in those shoes! What were you thinking?"

"But I didn't want to lose," Eiji sputtered, sniffling. "And if I can't move like I always do, we might not be able to beat them!"

"Eiji!" Oishi suddenly sounded unusually passionate. "If that's what it means, let them win! You know I'd die if anything happened to you!"

Ryoma felt his mouth open slightly. Why did this suddenly sound like a soap opera?

"Shuichiro…" Eiji's eyes were wavering, still full of tears. "I'm sorry…"

Something was really wrong here. Eiji never called Oishi by his first name, or at least if he did, Ryoma had never heard it. (3) And the acrobatic tennis player looked extremely strange, even feminine, sitting there helpless with his legs out in front of him, knees bent and feet balanced on the elegant high-heeled shoes.

"Never scare me like that again, Eiji," Oishi was saying, bent protectively over his partner, holding him close.

Wait… holding him close!

Throughout the dialogue that followed, Ryoma felt his head swim. There was no way this was actually happening.

"I won't! I'm sorry, darling! You know I love you!"

"I love you too, Eiji! Don't ever leave me alone!"

"Never! I'll never let a twisted ankle come between us! But… Shuichiro, it hurts!"

"My poor kitten, let me kiss it better. You know, it's really a shame. Those high heels looked so good on you."

"Oh, Shuichiro…"

"Let's go somewhere where we can be alone, Eiji."

"You're always so romantic! Of course, let's go! We can make out in the locker room!"

"But you're still hurt. Here, let's try this."

And with something like horror, Ryoma watched the vice captain carry off his doubles partner like a groom would normally carry his new bride down the chapel steps. And they were still wearing those fear-inspiring high heels.

Inui, however, didn't seem phased by this turn of events. Nor did Kaidoh, for that matter.

"I guess we win by forfeit."

"I guess so."

There was a pause, and a look was shared by the pair.

"I guess we get to go make out now, too."

"Yup."

And they walked off.

Ryoma was positive that he was going deaf at this point. There was no way he was actually hearing what he was hearing. It must have been some terrible mistake. Unless it was the terrifying black magic of these accursed high-heeled shoes…

"Hey, Echizen," a voice said suddenly, interrupted his chaotic train of thought. "We're starting again."

"Uhhh… right!" He shook his head a few times, clearing away all the cluttered fears that had gathered in his mind. This had to be just a weird trick of his imagination. "I'm ready."

Suddenly, Ryoma found something strange happening to him. He was still wearing those terrible shoes, but moving his feet started becoming easier. His shots started looking much better, closer to his normal abilities. Maybe he was starting to become accustomed to playing in the unusual footwear, or at least enough to be capable of hitting winning shots again.

He saw Kawamura hit a slightly high shot over the net, one that wasn't as deep as the other shots had been. This was his chance. And since tennis was tennis, after all, there was no way he wasn't going to do it.

"Mada mada dane," he said with a smirk. (4)

Skidding forward on the high heels, keeping as low to the ground as he could, he suddenly jumped upward and slammed the ball as hard as possible. It arched into a perfect "B" shape, just like it always did. And it won his side the point, naturally.

"Drive B!" the seventh graders would have announced, had they been there.

Wait… hadn't they been there? When had Ryoma ended up alone with his regular teammates?

There was a strange silence, and Ryoma's sense of triumph was drowned in a feeling of foreboding.

"Echizen…" Fuji looked stunned for a moment, evidently awed by the underclassman's skills. But then he opened his sharp blue eyes and smirked. "Take me, you sexy thing."

"What!" Ryoma couldn't help blurting, hearing things or not.

"Oh, no, you don't, Fuji-senpai." Ryoma suddenly felt himself being lifted into the air. "The freshman is mine."

Ryoma found himself in the arms of a very suggestive-looking Momoshiro, those gleaming violet eyes of his only inches away from his face.

"Momo-senpai, put me down!" he screamed, struggling as hard as he could against the stronger arms of his teammate.

"Oh, no, Ryoma. I can't do that until I've made you mine. You and your unusually attractive high heels," he said with a grin. And then all Ryoma could see was those lips moving closer to his own…

Closer, and closer, and closer, and he writhed and struggled until finally…

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

…

Ryoma Echizen decided, in retrospect, that the next time he was forced to drink that ungodly substance that Inui claimed was juice, he'd take some extra-strength sleeping pills before going to bed.

It was powerful stuff, after all, and it had the unfortunate ability to give him the most bizarre nightmares.

**-The delightfully predictable End-

* * *

**

(1) "Senpai" is the Japanese honorific that refers to someone who is a superior to another in class or rank. It's usually tacked onto the name of the person being addressed, and in this case, it refers to the respect an underclassman is supposed to have for an upperclassman.

(2) "Nya" is the nonsensical noise Eiji tacks onto the end of his sentences sometimes. It doesn't really mean anything but is supposed to sound like the noise a cat makes.

(3) Eiji Kikumaru and Shuichiro Oishi are the names of the members of the Golden Pair, first names followed by last names, respectively. For whatever reason, Oishi always calls Eiji by his first name, not the last name 'Kikumaru.' In contrast, Eiji always calls Oishi by his last name rather than calling him 'Shuichiro.' Don't ask me why; I don't know.

(4) "Mada mada dane" is Ryoma's catch phrase, which he says frequently. It roughly means "Not yet" and is usually his way of stating his superiority over his opponents. I used it just because it's in character. :)

Sorry for all the footnotes; I'm being overly cautious. Well, that's all! Hope you enjoyed it. :)


End file.
